When a visitor comes to my garden, they see it through eyes that have no history or no future with my garden. They cannot see the metamorphosis that has taken place when an ordinary back yard or field of weeds was turned into the plot of color and texture beginning to emerge. They look at the small mound in the center of the garden and barely notice the rise. I look at the mound and recall the fifty trips I made with a wheelbarrow, carting the heavy mulch to sculpt an interesting rise in the landscape. When I look at the mound, I see a small mountain, complete with pond and plants which are scheduled to go in next year.
A visitor entering my garden in July may notice she is walking under a trellis rising abruptly from the fence around the garden. Since the trellis is covered in a rose that bloomed only in spring, there are no flowers on the trellis, just leaves. The visitor does not give the trellis another thought. He looks at the garden and sees the flowers that are blooming now, little more.
Each time I enter the garden through the arching trellis I feel I am walking into a world of color and scent. I picture the trellis the way I hope it will be one day, covered in huge cabbage roses dripping from the edges of the trellis and blooming most of the summer. I stand under the cool shade of the arch and gaze out on the garden, seeing not only the flowers that are in bloom, but also all those that have finished blooming, those yet to bloom, and even those not yet planted. It is a glorious sight, seen only by me.
This seems to be a universal experience. Often an acquaintance will speak of the garden in which they work each day. With enthusiasm, this person will describe the rare plants they have discovered and nurtured, the color combinations onto which they have magically stumbled, and the pond excavations that took them several days. They will try with pencil and pad to show me the contours and shapes they have created to achieve an astonishing effect. On occasion, I have had an opportunity to visit one of these gardens. They are usually very nice and exude the loving care that has gone into them. But, as others do in my garden, I have looked in vain for a trace of the botanical miracle I have fixed in my mind from their colorful descriptions.
After a few such experiences, I have decided that while one rarely sees a garden as it is viewed by the creator, these places really do exist. I now know that the only way to discover these amazing gardens is to listen closely to the heart of the gardener and view their garden through loving eyes.
|Thread Title||Last Reply||Replies|
|So Beautiful by jerseyridgearts||Jun 27, 2015 5:49 PM||1|
|Ditto from a Former Teacher by Gardenspot2010||Jun 27, 2015 5:47 PM||2|
|Yes, my garden feels like a piece of my soul... by gemini_sage||Jun 27, 2015 5:45 PM||4|
|I'm the opposite! by jvdubb||May 22, 2015 8:02 PM||4|
|Your garden.... by lindagisla||May 22, 2015 5:31 PM||1|
|Untitled by MrsGreenthumb||May 2, 2015 5:27 AM||2|
|So true. by canadanna||May 1, 2015 8:30 PM||2|